A Twist in Fate
by CoconutsAndJelly
Summary: When the golden trio are finally finished with the war, Hermione feels out of place. Leaving her friends and family behind, she travels to Forks, Washington to stay with her Uncle Charlie, who she hasn't seen for years. Now surprises are in store as she learns just who her Uncle and his daughter have been living with, and how it changes her own life.
1. Chapter 1

I have decided to write this, so I hope you like it. I apologise in advance for any mistakes in Americanisms and Twilight-ish stuff, because honestly I'm English and the only twilight I've watched/read is on here. I hope it's okay.

* * *

"Uncle Charlie!" Hermione cried, spotting her uncle across the airport waiting room and running over to him, abandoning her luggage, and jumping on him. Her Uncle had always been so much bigger than her short figure, so he had to hold her up.

"Baby girl," he grinned, so unlike him, "You're home. You look so much older."

"Well I was fifteen the last time I saw you," she said, ecstatic to be back with family.

She'd been dealing with the aftermath of the war, but once everyone else was back on track - Ginny and Harry in a happy relationship; Ron and Lavender together, despite him kissing her in the final battle - she had felt a little out of place, and then the accident with her parents happened.

The next week, once she'd managed to drag herself away from her bed, she called up her uncle, who'd been informed of the accident by the police earlier, and he agreed to let her live with him in Forks, Washington, where she had visited him when she was a child. They were both grieving in different ways, but both of them wanted to feel something other than grief, and they were truly happy to see each other.

"That's true. Now you're all grown up, you're nineteen."

"I missed you," she said, looking up to him with a beaming smile on her face, "So much."

"Oh, why?" he said confusedly, "I mean, you've only been gone for what? Four years?"

"Stop it," she frowned, hitting him on his broad chest, "You know I tried to visit."

"Oh, really?" he teased, grabbing her luggage.

"Yes, really," she insisted, "I just had some trouble back in England but it's all sorted now; there's nothing that could drag me away from you, uncle Charlie. I would never leave you; you're all I've got."

"Have you gotten taller?" he asked.

Hermione could tell he was distracting her from the serious topic, but she went along with it; uncle Charlie had never been to great with emotional stuff, and neither had she really, but after the war, she was determined to love everyone who was still there to love. She didn't have much, but any family she had was precious, especially after what'd happened with her parents. Ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest, she looked up to her uncle.

"No," she said, looking puzzled, "Have you gotten shorter?"

"Maybe…" he said, measuring her with his hand. They both laughed, the hand only coming up to his muscled shoulder, "Maybe not."

"You are so mean to me!"

"You know you love me," he chuckled, "I am, of course, your favourite uncle."

"You're my only uncle!"

"And how lucky you are," he said, ignoring the roll of her eyes, "Now come on kiddo, we need to get you back to the house."

"Alright."

"Now, Bells is out at the moment-"

"You mean, Isabella?" Hermione grimaced, thinking of the elusive cousin she'd never met, "Why is she not with Renée?"

When she was younger, and had visited with her parents, but her younger cousin, Isabella, and her mother had never been there. For the first few years, her parents had spun tales of holidays, dance classes, school visits and the like, but she was quite a smart girl, and by the age of four – when she started reception and met Jonathan, a little boy with two houses, two families and who boasted about getting double the amount of presents for his birthday – she had figured it out, and confronted her uncle, much to the surprise of his sister and brother-in-law.

Charlie had explained as much as he could to the four year old, before showing her a picture of his pale, brown haired daughter, who had hair much straighter than her own mane of curls, and telling her that one day she could meet her cousin. She had never called Renée aunty after that.

Back then, Hermione had wanted more than anything to meet this mysterious American girl, who made her uncle Charlie so sad, but now, she was just a pain. Charlie knew everything about magic and the wizarding world, but this stranger was the exact opposite, and she meant Hermione would have to hide her magic.

"Renée's married, little lion," Charlie said, shrugging, "He's a baseball player, so she's travelling with him whilst I look after Bells."

"Oh."

"I know it's strange, kiddo, but you've been gone a long time," he looking guilty, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I know, uncle Charlie," she sighed, feeling selfish; this was his first chance to spend more than just a month with his only daughter, and she was worried about hiding something she'd kept hidden for ten whole years, "She doesn't know-"

"Nothing," he interrupted adamantly, "You can tell her if you feel comfortable, but you don't have to. And I won't say _anything_."

"Thank you," she smiled awkwardly, trying to break the uncomfortable, stiffness filled silence, "I appreciate it."

"No problem, little lion," he laughed, "Now, have you brought anything particularly sweet from that sweetie shop of yours for your poor old uncle, who's been so terribly sad and alone since you stopped visiting and-"

"Stop it, you're embarrassing yourself" Hermione grinned, stopping by the entrance to the airport, opening her beaded bag and pulling out a Honeydukes bag, "I bought all your favourites before I left, just as your requested."

"Ah, now I remember why you're my favourite niece," he said, reaching into the bag and grabbing a jelly slug. Hermione winced as she heard the squeal from the charmed sweet when Charlie ripped its head off with his teeth.

"I also brought enough sugar quills and blood pops to last me the year," she said, gesturing to the bag, "Then I'll have to go back for more."

"How do you fit all that stuff in there?" he asked, opening the boot of his car and putting her luggage inside, "It's tiny."

"It's called magic, uncle Charlie," she said, tapping her little bag with pride, "Though it is one of my more ingenious creations, I must admit."

"Oh, who could neglect to bow down to your genius," he said as they both got in the car, "Do you want the radio on?"

"Nope," she smiled, looking over to her uncle fondly, "I'd much rather talk to you."

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Charlie asked nervously, glancing at his frozen niece.

The room Hermione was standing in was gorgeous. It was a tiny box-room, but she felt cosy, like the pale red, patterned walls were about to sweep her into a hug and hold her till she was warm again. The single bed, where a simple, cream duvet that was slightly crumpled was resting, had a thick-looking blanket spread across the bottom that - with it's tribal design and colours - reminded her of the rug her mother had had in the kitchen, and about ten scatter cushions of varying shapes and patterns.

It was in the corner of the room, and Charlie had hung pretty fairy lights across the window, which was to the left of her bed so she could sit and look out. There were old, battered photos of her parents, uncle and her grandparents in photo frames on the wall, a dark wood chest of draws and where the photos weren't, Charlie had installed matching shelves full of books.

"I got a friend of Billy's - you remember Billy, right? - to help me. Sue Clearwater," he said, still not sure what to do.

"I," Hermione started, unable to speak.

"I know you might not like it, but you can always change it, and I know it's small, but with Bells moving in and me being in my room I didn't know quite where else to put you so I just moved everything out of my office," he blabbered, the silence making him twitchy.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, a soft smile forming on her lips, "Oh Charlie, it's just beautiful."

She turned to face her uncle, who was feeling a bit more comfortable, "Thank you, so much."

"I just wanted you to feel at home," he said simply, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "It's not much, but..."

"It's more than enough," she said amused, shaking her head at his humble attitude, "I can't imagine anywhere I'd rather call home, uncle Charlie."

"That's good, little lion, I kind of need you here," he admitted, looking down at his niece, "With your mom and dad leaving us, I don't want you to be alone either."

"I know," she sighed, understanding the feeling he was talking about, "I need you too."

"Well, I think I'll let you get settled in then, kiddo," he smiled, placing her suitcases on by the door, "Once you're done, just come down and we'll sort out some dinner."

"Okay," she said, watching as he trudged out of the room before opening her bag.

* * *

"I miss you," Hermione sighed as she placed the dark frame on her chest of draws. She'd emptied her luggage into the draws, and now she had finished putting her own things in the room; this was the final thing.

She glanced around at the cosy room her uncle had made for her, then made her way down the stairs to her uncle.

"Hey," she smiled, sitting next to him on his comfy green sofa, "What're you watching?"

"Ah, just some football."

"Are you sure? That looks a lot like rugby," she furrowed her brows, looking at the men on the telly.

"It's American football," Charlie insisted, pointing to the t.v, "See that guy there, he's the quarterback. He basically runs the whole operation."

"Uncle Charlie, it's rugby in armour," she frowned, gesturing to the screen where a blonde man was running down the grass, "Are they that scared of a little bruising that you can't even play without that on their shoulders?"

"No, that's for-"

"I know what that's for," Hermione interrupted, "It's so those idiotic rugby players don't break a nail."

"You don't get it, this is a highly skilled sport, kiddo," Charlie said, looking over to her.

"You're right, I don't get it. Rugby seems much more fun," she said, "Is this what Renée's husband does?"

"No, he plays baseball."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't matter," he laughed, amused by his niece's constant questioning, "What do you want for dinner?"

"Er, what have you got in?"

"I don't know, check the cupboards," he said, grinning cheekily, "And leave me to my wimpy game."

"Okay," she rolled her eyes, thinking that she'd done it a lot in the past few hours, "I'll see if I can whip something up."

She walked over to the kitchen and peered in each cupboard, tutting at the packet food and processed muck that filled them, "Uncle Charlie, do you have anything fresh in here?"

"Nope," he called back from the living room, "I don't think so."

"Not even a potato?"

"I doubt it," he laughed loudly, standing up and joining her, "You'll have hard luck making something fresh from this lot; usually Bells and I go out. Why don't we go to the diner?"

"You're going to have to take me to the shop," Hermione said, closing the cupboard and looking over to her uncle, "Unless you _want_ to eat spam sandwiches."

"No, we'll go."

"Okay then," she smiled, "Where's the nearest supermarket?"

"It's in La Push," he lied, thinking about the annoying, nosey people of Forks, "Come on."

Hermione was putting on her coat and grabbing an umbrella, when the phone rang. She wasn't sure if she should answer it, but Charlie wasn't because he was changing, so she answered.

"Hello?"

"_Bella?_" a gravely man's voice asked.

"No, sorry, she's not at home. Do you want to leave a message?"

"_Er, __No. I wasn't looking for her, actually,_" the voice told her.

"Then why did you ask for her?" Hermione asked, confused.

"_I thought it was Bella,_" he explained.

"Well, it's not. Was there something you needed other than to not ask for Isabella?"

"_Isabella? You mean Bella? Er, no. Yes!_"

"Could you please make up your mind," Hermione sighed, getting annoyed, "You are confusing me, and I need to get back to Charlie."

"_Charlie's there?_"

"Of course, it's his house."

"_Yeah, well, can I speak to him?_"

"Sure, hold on a second," she said, running up to Charlie's room and knocking on his door, "There's someone on the phone for you."

"Who?" he called.

"I'm not sure."

"Oh," he said, before popping his head round the door and grabbing the phone, then shutting it again with a quick, "Thanks."

Hermione shook her head, and went back downstairs. She had been waiting for Charlie for about ten minutes, before he came down the stairs in a black shirt and jeans that looked suspiciously like the ones he was wearing before.

"We've been invited to a bonfire, kiddo," he told her, smiling from the stairs and grabbing his coat, "You remember I told you Billy and Sue helped with your room?"

"Who?"

"Oh, okay," Charlie shrugged, walking over to the door with a confused Hermione following, "You'll meet them there."

"What about Isabella?" Hermione asked, "How will she cook anything?"

"Oh, she will have eaten at the Cullen's," Charlie said, frowning at the mention of the family.

"Okay," Hermione smiled, not noticing his annoyance as she hopped into Charlie's truck, "Where is this bonfire?"

"In La Push," Charlie said, "I know a lot of people down there."

"Cool," Hermione said, watching the greenery from the rain-covered window of his car.

"Your mom did too," Charlie added quietly.

"Oh."

The car fell to silence, Hermione curling up her jean-clad legs into herself on the seat, looking out at the rain.

"Why are they having a bonfire in the rain?" she asked.

"Oh, well the heat of the fire tends to keep everyone warm enough," Charlie said, "I wouldn't worry, I've been to a lot of these and you don't really get cold."

"Oh, okay," she smiled, looking at the car park her uncle had just pulled up at, "Is this where it is?"

"Nah, it's there," he said, turning and walking over to a long beach, where a crowd of people were gathered around a roaring fire. Hermione didn't know whether to follow him, or not, but looking at the dark street she was standing on, she rushed over to him.

"Charlie!" A bulky, muscular man with a deeply wrinkled face and dark russet skin cried, wheeling over to the two, "So good to see you!"

His voice seemed familiar to Hermione, but she couldn't quite place it, the memory too far away but niggling teasingly at her mind.

"You too Billy," Charlie grinned, "How've you been?"

"Not too bad, how about you?" Billy asked, looking appreciatively at the smile on his friends face.

"I'm feeling great," Charlie said, looking over at Hermione with a mischievous look in his eyes, "Have you met my friend?"

Billy looked over to her, stunned.

"Jean?"

"No Bill, her daughter," Charlie said, looking over at his friend, "Meet Hermione Granger, my niece."

"It's lovely to meet you, sir," Hermione smiled shyly, looking down at the ground as the man stared without saying anything.

"Come on, Billy," Charlie laughed, feeling sorry for his niece, "I know you're getting on a bit, but there's no need to be rude."

"Oh, sorry," he said, looking ashamed, "I apologise, Hermione, it's just you look so much like your mother."

"She does indeed," another voice interrupted, making Hermione raise her head to see the man.

"Harry," Charlie greeted warmly, "This is my niece, Hermione, though I think you heard that already."

"God, she's even more beautiful than Jean, Charlie," Harry tutted, "Your sister was right, all the good genes do go to the women of your family."

Hermione blushed deeply, "I highly doubt that, sir. My mother was an exceptionally beautiful woman, I'm definitely not."

"Ooh, sir?" Harry chuckled, looking over to his friend, "Do you here that, Billy? I'm a sir!"

"Stop teasing the poor girl," Charlie scolded his friends, "You're acting like a damn teenager."

"Oh, I see, that's what you think, is it?" Harry said, leading to a full blown bickering fest. Hermione edged away from her uncle and over to Billy, "What are they doing?"

"They're having a maturity contest," he said, an amused smirk playing at his lips as he watched his friends.

"They're both losing, I see," Hermione frowned, thinking of how to stop this; she only knew her uncle here, and she couldn't wait for him to finish whatever it was he was doing. She'd never seen him act so childish, "What do we do?"

"Just wait."

"Uncle Charlie," she called above their arguing, "What are you doing?"

"Don't interrupt, kiddo."

"Oh," she said, annoyed at his quick dismissal, "Fine."

She looked at Billy, remembering he knew about her mother, "So, you knew my mother, sir?"

"Yes, she was a great woman," he sighed, looking pityingly at her, "I am very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, sir," she blinked, holding back her tears and shivering a little.

"Are you cold, young one?"

"A tad," she smiled, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Well then, allow me to take you over to our bonfire," he beamed, rolling over to the fire with Hermione following. The people looked up to the newcomer, curious about who she was.

"Jean Swann?" a woman, aroung Billy's age, called from across the flames. She made his way round to them and Hermione saw a beautiful woman with a thin face, black eyes and black hair.

"No, Sue," Billy said, "This is Hermione, Jean's daughter. Hermione, Sue Clearwater. She was a friend of your mom's."

"Oh god, you're beautiful!" Sue exclaimed, grabbing a much shorted Hermione by the shoulders and looking her over, "Just as beautiful as your mother."

"No Mrs. Clearwater, I doubt it," Hermione shook her head, "But thank you."

"Nonsense, young one," the elder woman laughed, "You look just the same."

"She's right," Charlie said from behind her, "You do look like your mom, little lion."

"Oh, I never realised," Hermione frowned, biting her lip.

"Billy, do you want to do the honours of introducing Hermione to the kids?"

"Sure," Billy said, "Hey!"

Everyone stopped their conversations and looked to Billy, Charlie and Hermione, "This is Hermione Granger. Come introduce yourselves."

Each of the tribe came to greet her: there was Quil - something that greatly amused her, thinking of her days at Hogwarts -, Embry, Seth or Jeff, she couldn't remember, an interesting girl called Leah, two energetic boys called Brady and Colin, a very dark-looking boy called Paul, Jacob who was Billy's son, and Jared.

"I'm Sam, Sam Uley," A deep baritone said, snapping her out of her list-making.

She looked up, straight into his eyes, and my world spun. Hermione felt as if my legs were going to fall from under me. It was several moments before she realized that she should stop starring like an idiot and say something back, breaking the eye contact.

"Hermione, Granger," she said awkwardly, feeling embarrassed about staring, "I'm Charlie's niece."

"I heard," he laughed, and it was a gorgeous sound, "How many times have-"

A loud pop interrupted him, and Hermione looked around, alert, for any signs of danger; a habit from the war.

"Waaahh!"

"Hermione, I finally found you!" She turned to see a flustered Kingsley Shacklebolt holding her darling godson Teddy, who was crying and looked very distressed.

Her mothering instincts kicked in, and she rushed over the the distraught baby, taking him gently and kissing his head before rocking him as she spoke with Kingsley, "Andromeda had passed, dear. She had left custody of Teddy to you, and he is now in your full care. I have to get back to work, darling, but good luck!"

"Kings, what are you talking about? Andromeda is fine."

"She's been suffering with a slow-acting curse for the past three years, Mione, she's only just been release from that pain. Now, I've got to get back to work, but I'll check up as soon as I can and bring around the adoption papers soon."

"Wait, Kings-"

But before she could ask a thing, the new Ministry of Magic apperated away, leaving her with a crying Teddy, a baffled bonfire and a shocked uncle. Cringing, she scraped the barrel of her mind to find anything to say.

"Uncle Charlie, we may need to buy a crib..."

* * *

Good, bad, ugly? Please review if you've got anything to say, I hope I continue this story.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, just to let you know, I won't be doing the super ninja/dancer/mage/genius Hermione that some of the kids on fan fiction come up with these days, so if you're looking for a Mary-Mione, then this isn't the right place for you.

She may be an animagus, maybe she can block out Edward's powers like Bella, who knows? But she isn't superhuman. Well, not too superhuman. Also, I know Billy's a tad harsh, but he's in shock.

Hope you like it!

* * *

"Shush, sweetheart," Hermione whispered, holding the upset child safely in her arms, "Go to sleep now."

"Sweeps Mi'ne?" he asked sleepily, his soft skin brushing against her own as he tucked his head on her chest.

"Yes, sweetie," she said, rubbing his back and rocking him lightly, "It's time for sleep."

She was blatantly ignoring the people behind her, mainly because she had no idea how to explain how the Minister of a world they thought was fiction had somehow appeared at their bonfire and handed her a eighteen-month old child, before taking off.

"Are you cold ones?" Billy ground out, diverting her attention from the now-sleeping child to the angry faces of the bonfire.

"What?"

"Bloodsuckers," Paul growled, any hint of the charming smile he was wearing earlier wiped from his face, his eyes stony and dark, "Vampires."

"Vampires? What do you mean; they don't exist," Hermione feigned ignorance and confusion, looking over to her uncle desperately. He looked even more out of his depth than her.

Her mind was racing, thinking of how these people knew of vampires and why they thought she was one. Though the younger children were staring at the place Kingsley had been, the elder ones she'd met earlier were standing in front of their parents and Hermione recognised that stance: they were getting ready to protect them. Only warriors assumed that stance, and it generally meant they were raring to fight, so she brought Teddy closer to her and checked her pocket for her wand, looking desperately over to her uncle.

"Kiddo's no vampire," Charlie chuckled nervously, hoping he could convince his friends they'd dreamt it all, even if he wanted answers as well, "Vampires are make-believe, anyway. I think you're seeing things, Billy."

"No, that man disappeared. Tell me now, is he a vampire!" Billy demanded.

"He is not a vampire, I promise," Hermione answered quietly, looking down at Teddy who was fussing from the noise, "Hush now, sweetie."

"Why should we believe you?" Harry countered, "You bring this trickery onto our land without explanation and expect _trust_ from us?"

"Jean was a good woman, Harry," Sue scolded her husband, looking softly over to Hermione, "I'm sure she can explain this."

"What's to explain?" Jared piped up, "She's dangerous, end of."

"I-I can make an oath," Hermione pleaded, "I'll do anything, just please don't hurt my child!"

"Your child!" Charlie cried out in shock, looking at the cute little thing with brown curls that matched his own, "Is this kid your son?"

"Not now, Charlie," Billy shouted, before turning to the girl in front of him, "Now young one, tell me what that man was."

She looked over to her uncle, who was almost catatonic thinking of his little lion kissing, let alone having a toddler, and asked, "Do you trust them?"

Charlie just nodded, looking away from the little boy to meet her eyes. Hermione sighed, shifting Teddy on her arm, and stroked his wisps of dark hair.

"I'm a witch," she mumbled.

"Speak up, young one," Harry said, looking serious.

"I'm a witch," she said, "As in, I can do magic."

Nobody spoke, but Hermione could see the sceptical look in their eyes.

"Get out," Billy ordered quietly, a deadly calm surrounding them both, "You will not stand in _my_ reservation and attempt to make a mockery of me and my family with this nonsense. I believe you are not a vampire; neither you nor your friend smell as a vampire should, but whatever you are, you are a danger to my family and I will not accept you here. Leave my home; you are not welcome here until we have discussed what you have said."

"That's fine," she nodded quickly, looking over to her uncle, "See you at the house."

She grabbed her wand from her pocket and thought of the wonderful bedroom Charlie had made for her, keeping the thought in her mind as she spun on her heel and apperated home with Teddy. As she felt the familiar sensation of her being forced through a very tight rubber tube, she swore she heard a whimper, similar to a wolf's.

She sat on the bed with a sleeping Teddy in her arms, and tried to remember where Charlie said the storage was.

"_Surely he's got Isabella's old crib somewhere,_" she thought, sighing in exhaustion.

* * *

Sam whimpered softly as Hermione vanished like her friend had. He knew what'd happened when he'd looked into her eyes: the earth beneath his feet had shifted as she became what held him to the earth; gravity wasn't what kept him there, it was her. Whatever she needed, he was ready and waiting to become whatever she needs him to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend.

In all the commotion, he hadn't managed to speak up, and now she was gone.

"What is she really, Charlie?" Billy sighed, looking over to his friend.

"She's a witch," he said, rubbing his face with his hands, "She was telling the truth."

"It makes sense," Sue said, thinking about the long stick she'd brought out, "She had a magic stick, didn't she?"

"That's her wand," Charlie informed her, smiling over to the woman he'd know for so long.

"You were too harsh on her," Sue said, shaking her head at her husband, "That poor girl was ambushed with a baby on her first day in an entirely new country and you - who happens to be hiding a massive pack of teenage wolves in _your_ reservation, which, by the way, I happen to live in also - banish her from the first place she visits!"

"But, witches aren't real!" Leah exclaimed, interrupting whatever Billy was about to say, "You've all gone mad!"

"She wasn't a vampire though," Jacob added, looking to his dad, who was thinking hard, "I can smell a vampire a mile off and she was no vampire."

"No," Paul chuckled, smirking, "She smelt sweet and sexy, like honey blossoms and vanilla cupcakes."

"Don't talk about her like that," Sam growled, hitting his friend on the chest, "She deserves respect. Anyway, she wouldn't go for you."

"Ooh, has our esteemed leader got a crush?" Paul teased, "Never pictured you going for anyone off the res, Sammy."

"It's not a crush," he said, shaking his head as he thought of the amazing girl he'd met.

"Have you imprinted, son?" Quil IV asked, frowning, "On the witch?"

"We're actually calling her a witch?" Leah cried, "Are you all delusional!"

"She is a witch, Leah," Charlie rolled his eyes, annoyed at the rash decision of his pal and indecisiveness, "If you'd just let her show you-"

"Who was that little boy?" Colin asked, attracting the attention of the elders and his pack, "What it her son?"

"She looks like a good mother," Sue smiled, remembering how the girl had handled the distressed child, "The child looked like her as well."

"No," Charlie said firmly, not happy thinking of his little niece as a mother at such a young age, "Hermione too young for that. And she would never of left the boy with someone else."

"He smelled like us," Brady said passingly.

"She has a natural mothering instinct," Paul said, winking at Sam.

"What are you going on about?" Sam huffed, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"You know, she'll have to be able to look after lots of kids, being the future alpha female of the pack," he chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up," he grumbled through gritted teeth.

"Billy, if she is Sam's mate, she'll need to be on the res," Sue pointed out smugly, "Which means you'll have to retract your ridiculous banishment."

"I beg to differ," Jared argued.

"Then you beg to be wrong, boy," she quipped, observing a pouting Sam, "No way am I allowing you to keep an him from his imprint, one of the rarest and most important things a Quileute wolf can find."

"She's not a vampire," Billy started, "But I need to know what she can do, and how she knows about them."

Sam didn't know what the rest of his tribe was saying, but he knew one thing for sure, he was going to love Hermione Granger for the rest of his life.

The first thing he'd noticed was her soft eyes, which he'd admired for an embarrassingly long time, noting the way they shone, pretty as light, glistening from the bonfire's light. She was beautiful, with manic brown curls that settled on her shoulders in loose ringlets. She was petite, but held herself with maturity, making Sam think she was perhaps just a little under his own age, and she radiated an aura of knowledge and caring that reminded him of his own mother.

"_Paul's so right,_" he thought, beaming at the thought of the same girl he'd only just met caring for his pack and carrying his children, "_I bet she'll make the most amazing alpha."_

"She's so pretty," Sam sighed adoringly.

"Oh damn, I think he's gone soft in the head," Quil laughed.

"Oh haha," Sam grumbled, "Look, Billy, I don't care what you do for the moment, but I know one day Hermione is going to living here, on _your_ res, with the little boy she has already and at least three other kids of our own. There is nothing you can do to stop that."

"Hey, watch it boy," Charlie said, "That's my nineteen year old niece you're talking about!"

* * *

"Mi'ne, up-py!" the toddler called from the safety seat in the trolley, raising his pudgy arms to his godmother. Smiling at his use of her nickname, she scooped him out of the seat and cradled him, "Mi'ne sing!"

"One, two, three, four, five, once I caught a fish alive," Hermione sung, bouncing a giggling Teddy in her arms as they walked around the local Forks food shop.

"Six, sefen," Teddy paused, his cute face scrunched up as he thought.

"Eight, nine, ten," she finished, grabbing the carrots that looked the least luminescent and putting them in her trolley, "Then I let it go again."

After an hour of searching, she'd found the old crib and some clean blankets and set her godson down, silently thanking god he was old enough to sleep through the night. They'd both been so tired they slept until mid-morning, and had missed Charlie, who'd gone to work, and Isabella, who was at school.

Now Hermione had found her way to the supermarket, and was stocking up on fresh foods and anything she needed for Teddy, like toys and new blankets.

"Why did you let it go? Because it bit my finger so," she sung, playing with his fingers, "Which finger did it bi-"

"Oh gosh!" a sweet-sounding woman's voice gasped, "What an adorable child!"

Hermione looked up from the yellow peppers she'd been choosing from to see a couple standing next to her. They both had pale, beautiful features that seemed to glow with the radiance of youth, despite the age that they appeared to be. Something about the woman's heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, caramel coloured hair reminded Hermione of the beautiful women she had seen in photographs of the 1930's. She was small, slender, whereas her husband was taller, with short blonde hair and interesting amber eyes that matched his partner's.

"Carlisle, look at this beautiful boy," the woman gushed, turning to him. Hermione wasn't sure what to do, having never been faced with this situation before, and stood awkwardly for a moment until Teddy interrupted.

"Mi'ne sing!" he demanded, looking up with pleading eyes.

"Okay, darling," she soothed, picking up from where she'd stopped, "Which finger did it bite? This little pinky on my right!"

"How wonderful," the woman said, "My name is Esme, this is my husband, Carlisle."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Hermione," she introduced, shifting the wriggling toddler, "And this little nuisance is Teddy."

"What a lovely name," Carlisle smiled, "Are you new in town, Hermione?"

"Er, yes," she said, "How did you know?"

"You'll soon find out that this is a small town," he laughed, giving her a kind smile,"Everyone knows everyone here."

"Oh, well we're behind, then," Hermione said, "I only know you two, really, apart from my uncle."

"Are you here for work?" Esme wondered, her eyes glinting with a warm curiosity, "Not many people move to Forks by choice."

"Actually, I've come to spend some time with family, but I will be working."

"What is it that you do, then?" she said, cooing at Teddy, who was looking over to the beautiful couple.

"Actually, I'm considering setting up my own bookshop," Hermione told them sheepishly, "I love to read, and it seems like fun."

"That's wonderful!" Carlisle exclaimed happily, "The closest bookstore we've got at the moment is in Port Angeles, which is quite a drive away."

"That's good then," Hermione chuckled, "I wouldn't want to be instigating competition."

"You're a lovely young woman, Hermione," Esme said, her eyes glinting, "Would you and Teddy, perhaps, like to join me and my family for dinner this evening? I would love to give you a proper welcome to the neighbourhood."

"Er," Hermione hesitated, thinking of Charlie.

"_He wouldn't mind, would he?" _she thought, looking down at Teddy, "_I'm sure he_ _wouldn't_."

"I would love that," she agreed, "What time should we be there?"

"Oh, I'd say around seven, if that's okay with you?" Carlisle said, "Don't worry about bringing anything."

"That sounds perfect," she said, "But I can bring dessert, if you would like? That way I would be contributing to the meal somewhat."

"That's fine," Esme said, "Here, let me give you the address and our number."

_"It can't do much harm, can it?_" she thought, watching Esme jot down their address.

* * *

I've been getting a lot of complaints that it's too fast, but just wait, because it might get better.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so this is your first glimpse into the vampire world, and the Cullens. I've deliberately tried to slow it down, so I hope this it's better now, and answers to any review questions at the end. If you were wondering about Teddy's name, I checked it out on the Harry Potter Lexion for the canon full name, so it's right.

_Thank you all for your reviews, follows and favourites; they're much appreciated! (:_

* * *

"You invited a human for dinner?" Rosalie said slowly, as if trying to figure out the punch line of what sounded like the worst joke any of her family had ever told, "You _willingly_ invited a _blood_-pumping, _air-_breathing human into _our_ home - the only place in this godforsaken town we are away from humans - to have a dinner that _we cannot eat!"_

She couldn't believe that Esme would do something so dangerous, so ridiculously stupid that it could get them all killed.

"_Stupid woman,_" she growled to herself, ignoring the disapproving frown Edward sent her way and glaring at him, "_Shut up and keep out of my head. You started all this human garbage, douchebag!"_

Esme smiled kindly; looking over to her adoptive daughter with the same understanding smile she'd given her so many times. It was usually used to calm Rosalie, or make her feel less angry, but today it made her fists curl with anger. Esme thought she was being unrealistic about the safety of her family. She loved her, but sometimes, when she was angry, all she could see was patronising and pity in those amber eyes so like her own.

"She's new to the area and she barely knows anyone, it was only polite," Esme said, smiling softly at her daughter, "Besides, I was curious."

Rosalie's annoyed scowl was forced off her face as the anger she was feeling contorted her usually stunning features sour as vinegar. Jasper, who was sitting in his room, was trying as hard as he could to send relaxing feelings to his sister, given the state she was in, but she was livid, and there was no calming her.

"Curious? What made you so damn curious, Esme?" she roared, stepping threateningly closer to her mother and brushing of her husband's arm as he tried to pull her away, "Were you wondering what it would be like to have another human in the house to tempt us all? Is it not enough Edward has decided he can date a blood bank? Or were you interested to know how long Jasper – who is basically a newborn - could last out against that much blood so close to him before tearing their throats apart? Tell me!"

Shaking her head, Esme sighed, "It's not like that, Rosalie, she's different. She's not like Bella."

Edward, who'd been listening to the conversation whilst pretending to do a crossword, looked up at the mention of his girlfriend, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I don't think she's human," Esme stated cautiously.

"She's a wolf?" Emmett asked, thinking of the Quileute wolves that smelt so disgusting.

"No, she smelt delicious, like sunshine, fresh air and happiness all wrapped up in a human bottle, but I didn't want to bite her," she told them, looking over to a less furious, but still irate Rosalie, "Something about her told me I shouldn't, like it wouldn't be a good idea."

"I get what you mean," Jasper said, having come down from his room when he felt his sister's anger turn to curiosity, "With Bella, I feel like she's just another human, I could drink from her and think nothing of it."

"Hey!" Edward cried, sulking at the thought his brother had just had, "You have no right!"

"We're vampires, dude," Emmett laughed, "No way you don't sit in her room at night – which is really creepy, by the way – watching her veins pumping and not think about draining her dry whilst she slept. She's your singer, dude, it's way unnatural."

"We _are_ unnatural, dumb ass!" Edward retorted.

"I don't get why you're so interested," Jasper crossed his arms, looking over to his brother, "She's hardly as beautiful as most girls. In fact, she's quite plain, and incredibly depressing for someone with such a good life. Whenever I'm near her, I feel like all the happiness has been sucked out of the room."

"She pretty in her own way!" Edward defended, raring for a fight against his brother.

Jasper had never quite got on with Bella; he was always walking away when she joined them and scowling much like his sister when he couldn't escape. There was nothing wrong with Bella, and Edward thought Jasper should support them because he was family, but he didn't, and despite his mind reading abilities, Edward couldn't figure out why.

"Now now, we don't think thoughts like that," Carlisle interrupted, raising his perfectly sculpted eyes eyebrows at Jasper in warning, "Esme, I agree, there was something unusual about the girl, Hermianne was it?"

"Her name is Hermione, dear," his wife corrected, smiling, "And her charming little child's name is Teddy, though I can't for the life of me figure out what it is short for."

"Why were you even at the grocery store?" she demanded.

"We must go every once in a while to keep up appearances, Rosalie, as you fully well know," Carlisle said.

"I still say it's dangerous," Rosalie frowned, looking much calmer than she had done before, "Why can't you just tell her she's uninvited?"

"Well dear, it would be rude," Carlisle said, chuckling at his daughter's protective attitude, "Plus, Alice will be back from the market with the food soon, and we wouldn't want it to go to waste."

"No, that wouldn't be good at all, would it?" she rolled her eyes, thinking of the irony, "Why don't we just make a meal for seven vampires who only drink blood? Then they can _not_ eat it, just to make sure it doesn't go to waste."

"Rosalie, it's good for us to make new friends," Carlisle smiled, turning to his wife whose grin matched his own, "Anyway, a little leftovers won't harm anyone."

"Think of the starving children in Africa!" Rosalie cried, only to be met with the booming laugh and the light embrace of her husband, "Do you even know who this girl is? How long did you speak to her, two minutes?"

"No," Esme started, before cutting off the quick remark her daughter was probably coming up with, "But you have to invite people to things, like dinners, because that's how you get to know them and befriend them, Rosalie."

"We don't need friends; we've never needed friends before," she huffed, pouting, "Why's she even here?"

"She said she was staying with family in town."

"So she will've been warned off us already. It's probably a prank or something!"

"I highly doubt she'd do that," Esme frowned, "She didn't seem the type to, at least. She was very kind, and she was beautiful too. She looked like a wonderful mother, even if she was so young."

"Probably faking it, then. Using her looks and an innocent baby to get you to trust her," Rosalie tried.

"I don't think you're going to change their minds, babe," Emmett said reluctantly, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Why don't we take the car out?"

"It need fixing, that's why," she grumbled, storming out, with her husband following.

"I did say I was sorry about that, didn't I?" Jasper whispered nervously, forgetting the fact his sister he could hear.

"I'm sure you did," Esme soothed, walking over to her son and smoothing the fabric on his shoulders, "You're not one to forget your manners."

"Thanks," he shrugged, hearing a car pull into the driveway, "I should probably go help Alice with the shopping."

"I never wanted to upset them." Esme said worriedly, biting her lip as she watched the couple collected bags of pointless food through the kitchen window, "They'll be okay, won't they?"

"Of course, darling," her husband nodded, rubbing her back, "We're Cullens."

* * *

"Well little boy, it looks like we've got everything we need, doesn't it?" Hermione cooed, looking down at the child of the man she'd considered a father before his untimely passing, who was settled comfortably on her hip, "Now we can make uncle Charlie some real food."

There were about five plastic bags sat on the kitchen floor, as she hadn't had time to it away yet, but she was quite pleased with their shopping excursion. She'd managed to stock up on what she thought was necessary: two bags worth of fruits, vegetables and herbs, so she could make some real meals, instead of the bacon and eggs Charlie had told her they'd been eating for the past few months; a lot of meat, most of which she planned to put in the freezer so it wouldn't go off before she could cook it; she'd gotten all the basics she could remember her mum getting, like milk, bread, eggs and butter, though she was worried it might taste different to the english equivalent, it certainly looked odder.

She'd spoken to a nice - if a little longwinded - girl called June, a pretty blonde that looked to still be in high school, as she helped her pack up the shopping she'd done and learnt a bit more about the town.

Apparently, it was famous for logging, which Hermione had discovered was cutting down trees. There was a timber museum, an old steam train and a fishing port for tourists, but other than the supermarket she was standing in, the three local high schools, a diner where almost the entire town came to eat, and the Forks precinct where her uncle worked, it was all houses.

After being advised to visit Port Angeles, she'd thanked June and made a quick dash to the car to avoid rain. She had set up her international drivers licence at the post office before she'd left, but Charlie had insisted he take her to get a proper American license, considering she would be staying indefinitely.

"Mi'ne, hungwy!" Teddy cried, looking up to his new parent with doe-like, pleading eyes.

"Okay, pud, we'll get you something nice," she said, imitating the soothing voice she'd heard Molly use with Victoire, "How about some banana slices?"

"'Nana yum," he shouted, beaming up at her. She tickled his tummy before walking over to the high chair and placing him in.

"I'll go and chop some up then, little man," she smiled, kissing him on the forehead and turning to see the shopping staring back tauntingly at her and sighing, "Not before I've got all of this away."

She had a hard time navigating all the new cupboards and shelves, especially since there was barely anything in them to begin with, but managed to find her way around the little blue kitchen

"Mi'ne!" Teddy whined from his plastic chair, stopping her as put away some bread. He was banging his little fists on the padded top, and Hermione laughed at his face as she sliced half of a banana into a decorated bowl for him, "Me hungwy."

"Okay sweetheart," she smiled, placing the giraffe covered bowl down, "Here we go."

"Nom 'nana," he said, ignoring his spoon and grabbing a piece and with his fingers.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the inevitable sticky fingers she would have to deal with, before moving over to put away the rest of the stuff. Once she'd finished, she looked back to her little man to see his bowl empty, fingers covered in banana and three slices stuck to his face.

"Oh, you are a little pudding," she laughed, peeling the banana pieces off him and putting them into the bowl, "Try not to make too much mess."

She walked over to her beaded bag and reached her hand in, trying to find the wet wipes she'd taken with her when she'd babysat for Andromeda a few weeks earlier. She rummaged around for a few more seconds, looking back to Teddy exasperated as she saw him playing with the leftover banana in the bowl, before giving up and reaching for her wand.

"Accio wet wipes," she whispered, holding out her hand to grab them as they came shooting out of the bag, then walked over to him, "Let's get you cleaned up, then, you little mess pot."

"Mwessy," he giggled, pointing to Hermione, who shook her head.

"I'm not messy," she told him, wiping the banana slime from his cheeks, "_You're_ the messy little monster."

"Mwessy!" he cried, hitting her on the ear as he tried to point to her again, "Mi'ne mwessy."

"Yes, sweetheart," she resigned, looking over to the clock on the wall. It was twelve, and Charlie would be coming back from work; he'd told her the day she'd arrived that he had a half-day on Mondays, so he'd be home around half-past twelve, but Bella would get back from school at around three.

"Your uncle will be home soon, sweetheart," she told him, taking the bow from him, scraping out the little bits he'd left and putting it in in dishwasher, "You haven't met your uncle yet."

"Wucle?" Teddy asked, his eyes shining with curiosity as she took him into the lounge.

"He's your uncle, sweetie, uncle Charlie," she said, looking down at him, "Can you say that for me?"

"Wucle Chawee," he tried.

"Uncle Charlie," she said slowly, hoping to get a bit closer to the real thing.

"Wuncle Charie."

"Uncle Charlie, sweetie."

"Uncle Charwie?"

"Yes, close enough," she nodded happily, grinning, "Shall we sing?"

"Swing!"

"Oh no, you're much to young for swings," Hermione teased, laughing at his irresistible pout, "The girls won't be able to resist you when you're older, little man."

"Sing Mi'ne, sing!"

"Alright, what shall we sing?" she asked, bouncing him lightly on her knee.

"Sunshine!"

"Sounds good to me," she said, holding him as she started the song, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine."

She smoothed his bouncy curls as she sung. When was Kingsley going to bring the paperwork? Would she get to keep him?

"You never know, dear, how much I love you," she sung, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards when his eyes opened and closed as he tried to keep himself awake. He always fell asleep when she sang, "You'll never take my sunshine away."

She sat holding him for a while, singing softly and rocking him on her chest, before she heard a car pull up, and the door close.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens," Charlie watched his niece hum to the little boy, "Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to see her uncle in full police uniform.

"I think you've got some explaining to do," he said, slumping down onto the sofa next to her and staring expectantly.

"I'll just put him down for a nap," she sighed, pulling out her wand with her free hand and transfiguring a sofa cushion into a nap mat and placing him on down, "I can explain."

"Can you? Because I understand about the magic, you know, that man popping out of nowhere and leaving, but who is that boy and why are you calling him your son?"

"First off, he's not my biological son," she started, watching a look of relief pass over Charlie's face, "He's my godson."

"Oh, so you knew the parents well enough to be chosen godmother?" Charlie cleared, thinking back to the couples he'd heard her talking about on the car ride from the airport, "And you chosen as the legal guardian too?"

"No, Remus and Tonks named her mother as the legal guardian, but I was next in line 'cause they figured if anything happened to them, I'd be old enough to look after him, but with the war and everything..." she trailed off sadly, her gaze finding the soft pale skin of the boy that reminded her of all she'd lost and all the wizarding world had gained, "Andromeda's passed away, so he's mine now."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I didn't mean to judge, but when you called him your son, I-"

"It's okay, uncle Charlie," she said kindly, "He was the only thing keeping me in England really and it was hard to leave him, so I'm kind of glad he's here now. I mean, I was staying for Harry before, but he's got his own wife now."

"Just because he's got her, doesn't mean that he can desert you," Charlie frowned.

"I wouldn't want to disrupt him," she shook her head, closing her eyes, "He's been through so much."

"Well I don't know," he said uncertainly. He hated the awkwardness he'd caused, so he moved on to happier things, "What's his name then?"

"Teddy Lupin," she gushed, "Short for Edward. I've told him all about his uncle Charlie, and he can nearly say your name right."

Charlie marvelled at how much Hermione looked like Renée when she'd first had Bella. She seemed to be excited about every little thing Teddy had done. She told him about how he'd said his first word, hover, at only 10 months; that he couldn't say her name or the nickname her friends had given her, so he called her Mi'ne instead; and loads of other things. He was glad she'd been there for the kid's life, and that she seemed well equipt to look after it.

"Well little lion, if you ever need anything," he said, rubbing her shoulder, "Just ask."

"Thank you, uncle Ch-"

"Hey Dad?" a low voice called from the hallway, "Whose car is that in the driveway?"

* * *

_To Dorieen: Sam didn't stop Billy 'cause he was too stunned and confused. Sorry for not making it clearer._

_To EliseDCervantes: One of the main focuses in this story is the relationship between Hermione and Teddy, and how that affects her relationships with other characters, so I didn't want to waste loads of time with a back story. If Billy was out of character, I didn't mean him to be, but I haven't read much Twilight - apart from the first book - so I really didn't have much to go off. I read up on him, and was informed he was extremely protective, but fair, so this was just his rash reaction to a very strange situation._

_To : I'm not sure? I don't read twilight much, so I'm going to say it's set around the end of twilight. It may not follow all Stephenie Meyer plot lines. _


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so Bella's not really happy or listening to Charlie, so that's why she's a bit of a bitch. Not much to comment on, so I won't ask for reviews. But, if you feel like leaving me just a little one? Maybe? (:

* * *

Hermione breathed in as she listened to the footsteps that were heading toward her. She assumed that it was her cousin, unless someone else called her uncle dad. She was slightly nervous, having never met her cousin before, and she hoped that she was nice, someone Hermione could get along with. As the unknown girl made her way into the room, she couldn't help but be confused.

The girl was nice-looking, Hermione could tell that. She had long, straight brown hair, a bit lighter than Charlie's, which fell limply onto her shoulders and had been scraped back with a headband.

She was pale, but unlike Hermione's own fair skin, hers looked like it had been deprived of the sunshine her own summer holidays in France had provided, and the blood that flushed in her uncle's cheeks whenever he stepped into the chilly air of the town seemed to be absent, leaving just pallid skin that contrasted harshly with her midnight black eyes. Her face was heart-shaped, and her lips were perhaps a bit too wide in comparison, but it didn't detract from her attractiveness. It wasn't the nice features of her cousin that confused Hermione, but the sulky expression on her face.

"Charlie?" Bella frowned, looking from her dad to the strange woman in her sitting room, "Who's this?"

"This is your cousin, Bella," her dad said nervously, smiling softly down at the short girl, "I told you she would be arriving on Sunday, but you missed meeting her because you were out."

"Oh," she said, thinking back to Sunday morning before she'd gone to meet Edward. She thought her dad had said something about a meeting, but she wasn't really listening so she'd assumed it was about work. She looked to her dad, her expression not changing, "Well sorry."

"It's no problem," Hermione smiled, confused as to why Bella couldn't address _her_, but held out her hand to the girl, "I'm Hermione."

"Bella," she nodded, shaking the outstretched hand weakly before pulling away, "I'm Charlie's daughter."

"Yes, I've heard a lot about you from uncle Charlie," she said, glancing quickly over to Teddy to check on him, "All good, I promise."

"Oh, Charlie's said nothing about you," she shrugged, "I've only been here two months into the year, so we've just been catching up." Hermione didn't quite know why, but Bella's gaze seemed to drift to the stairs.

"I've been telling you stories about your aunt Jean since you were a kid," Charlie replied.

"Well, I can't remember any of them," Bella said simply, "It was nice to meet you Hermione, but I'm going to go upstairs 'cause I'm going out tonight, so I need to get ready. I won't be back till about ten, Charlie."

"Er, where are you going?" Charlie called, only to be ignored as Bella trampled up the stairs to her room.

"Oh, she seems, nice..." Hermione trailed off awkwardly, not wanting to say anything bad about her family.

"She's just going through a faze," Charlie sighed, muttering under his breath, "An annoying bad boy faze."

Hermione laughed, having heard him, and smiled over to him, "I wouldn't worry, if my boy faze was anything to go by, it'll be short and sour, involving an unfortunate break up and a big crying session with ice-cream, biscuits and chocolate sauce, then she'll swear off boys for as long as she lives."

"What about poor little Teddy?" Charlie teased, "He's a boy, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he's my _baby_ boy and he's never going to be a heartbreaker," she shook her head stubbornly, a cute smile gracing her face, "I'll make sure of that."

"Look at that face, kiddo, he's going to be the most popular boy in school."

"And the nicest!" she said firmly, pouting grumpily at her uncles smug grin, "Who is this boy, anyway? The one Bella's getting you so worked up over."

"His name's Edward Cullen," Charlie said, his grin turning to a sulky frown. He was acting almost as moody as Teddy when he didn't get wanted for dessert, and it made Hermione smile because her uncle was usually so firm and in control, "He's horrid."

"Well he can't be that bad if he shares the same name as my darling," she smiled, "What's wrong with him?"

"Well, he's too nice to me, and he's too handsome," he whined, crossing his arms and shaking his head, "He's too perfect and I just know he's going to go away and break her heart.

"You don't know that, and those aren't good reasons to not like him, uncle Charlie," Hermione frowned, wondering why her usually cool-headed uncle was being so difficult, "He seems like a perfectly nice bloke from what you've said."

"He would be, if he weren't so damn obsessed with her!" he cried, thinking about the countless nights she'd disappeared out of the door to see that boy, "She's just the same; hell, he's all she's spoken to me about twice in the last two weeks!"

"I doubt that," she reasoned, "She spoke to you just now."

"Yeah, to tell me about going out!" he snapped, "I bet she's going to see _him_ as well."

"They're young and in love," she said, "Let them be happy!"

"In love? They've only known each other for six weeks!"

"Well, I can't profess to understand the situation," Hermione admitted, "But perhaps you're being a bit too harsh with him? A bit overprotective?"

"There's no such thing as overprotective, little lion, only safe," he said solemnly, as if he'd just come out with a wise quote from the Dalai Lama, "And on that subject, I don't want no boys sniffing round you either."

"Well, I don't know anyone from Forks," she shrugged, "And I've been kicked out of La Push by Billy, so I think that kind of shot that horse in the face."

"Still, stay away from guys," he warned her, "especially with little Teddy around. He needs you, not some sickly, loved-up version of you that only has time for your stupid would-be boyfriend."

"Let me be," she giggled, "I have no such qualms to leave my poor baby boy on his own."

"Well don't," Charlie said seriously, thinking back to when Renée left him, "You're an adult now, kiddo, and basically a mother."

"I know, and it's going to be a struggle without any support," she sighed contentedly, "But I kind of love him."

"No support? I'm here!" Charlie said, "I'll always be here for you, you know that, right?"

"Yes of course," she reassured him, biting her nail, "But I doubt someone will want to go out with me when I've got a child."

"You never know," Charlie winked, rubbing her shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

_"She's got a ready and willing husband sitting in La Push and she doesn't even know," _he thought, grabbing a beer, _"Damn, she's grown up so fast."_

* * *

"Hey uncle Charlie," Hermione called from the sofa, "How long has this been on the market?"

"What?" he asked, coming into the living room to see his niece curled up on the sofa, a broadsheet newspaper hiding the entirety of her face and her curls, and Teddy playing nosily with a toy truck on the floor, "What do you mean? What are you doing?"

"How long has this shop in town been for sale?" she repeated, taking the paper away from her face. She had librarian-like reading glasses pushed onto the top of her head and she looked like a proper mother to Charlie. She pointed to a small picture on the paper and said, "This one. I think it says it's on Mayberry street?"

"How come you're looking?" he wondered, taking the paper off her to read the advert.

"Well I can't afford to keep sponging off you," she told him, "And I've always wanted to open my own bookshop, so I figured now's the perfect time."

"Are you going to take out a loan?" he guessed, reading the small print of the paper.

"Er, you know how Remus and Tonks left me Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Well they left a bit more than that," she hinted awkwardly, hoping not to have to spell it out.

"What? Money?"

"Yes, a bit of money," she admitted shyly, before deflecting, "So how long has it been up for sale?"

"Three years, kiddo," he told her, "But it's not in town."

"Oh," she mused, "Where is it then?"

"Well, it is on Mayberry street, but it's split in the middle, town wise," he tried to explain, though by the confusion on her face he hadn't succeeded.

"What? Charlie you're not making sense," she replied, furrowing her brows, "Where is it?"

"It's on the border between Forks and La Push."

"Well, which one is it in?" she asked, re-reading the paragraph below the photo, "Forks or La Push?"

"It's in both," he answered, looking alarmed as she frantically read, "What's wrong?"

"This place was perfect for me," she huffed, making Charlie confused, "It had the right layout, the right space and licenses already-"

"That sounds great!" Charlie congratulated, "You should snap that up."

"Well I can't, can I," she moaned, rubbing her hands over her face in stress, "Why? Why did it have to be there?"

"Kiddo, what's the matter?"

"I am!" she exclaimed, looking heavenward an frustration, "Kingsley just _had_ to come in just at the wrong moment, didn't he! He had to reveal me right in front of muggles and ruin my new start!"

"I thought you couldn't tell muggles about being a witch unless they're relatives anyway?" Charlie wondered, remembering when Jean had told him about Hermione's gift.

"No, you can't," she paused, thinking over the laws she'd read about, "You can't."

"Kiddo?" Charlie said uncertainly as a gleeful look replaced her frown, "What are you thinking?"

"Can you babysit Teddy for a little while, uncle Charlie?"

"Yeah, of course," he nodded, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to head over to the ministry," she told him, "I promise I'll be back before ten."

She hugged her uncle quickly and bent down to kiss Teddy on the cheek.

"Hey Charlie, I'm leaving!" Bella called from the hall, before the door slammed shut.

"Oh, Esme!" Hermione remembered, snatching the paper the beautiful woman had given her with her number out of her pocket and running over to the phone, "I'll have to cancel."

"What?"

"Some couple from the supermarket invited us over to their house for dinner tonight, but I can't go now," Hermione explained, dialling the number.

"When did you go to the market?"

"_Hi?" _Esme's soft, sweet voice sounded down the phone, "_Who is_ _this?_"

"Hello Esme, it's Hermione," she said, hoping the nice woman had remembered her, "I was calling about the dinner tonight."

"_Oh hi! Was there a problem?_"

"Well, I was just wondering whether we could reschedule for another day, because I'm heading out of town for the evening tonight on urgent business," she said, the evasive expression sounding a tad rude to her ear, "I am so sorry."

"_Oh, it's no problem_," Esme soothed, laughing at the fretted voice of the British girl, "_How about we do tomorrow instead?_"

"That's perfect," Hermione smiled, "Thank you so much for understanding."

"_It's n__o problem_," she said, "_I'll see you tomorrow then._"

"Yes, tomorrow," she nodded, "Bye!"

"_Bye_," the dial tone sounded, signalling the end of the call.

"I'll see you in a bit, uncle Charlie, look after my baby for me," she waved, pulling out her wand and picturing the red telephone box of the entrance to the ministry and spinning in apperation.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so a few explanations and a new mystery in this chapter now, hopefully you like it. I haven't included the vampire kids in this one, or Teddy and Charlie, but they'll be coming in the next chapter. Keep on reading please!

_To Kesi Malfoy: ¡Ah, gracias! Lo siento, pero no hablo mucho español por que soy inglesa y empecé aprender español desde hace un ano para colegio. ¿Creo que eres mi primer lector internacional, por eso es emocionante, no? Lo siento si mi español es disastrous, pero lo intenté._

* * *

"I'm here to see Minister Shacklebolt," Hermione said quickly, looking over the receptionist's desk to a young blonde woman, "I'm sorry I don't have an appointment, but-"

"Appointments to see the minister are to be made at least two weeks prior to the meeting," she explained in a thick London accent, chewing absently, yet loudly, on what Hermione assumed must be a wizarding variation of bubble gum, "If you haven't made an appointment, then you shouldn't be here; this is the waiting room and you're not in waiting."

She wore the uniform robes of the ministry, but she'd obviously taken it upon herself to decorate; there were bright pink and purple badges supporting a cheesy pop group she remembered were named 'Wand Direction' and a spinning yellow and black button with Katy Potion in flashing print. Hermione could tell that she was the typical, gossipy, just out of Hogwarts kind of girl who hadn't gotten that many O.W.L's, never mind N.E.W.T's; a girl you could manipulate in a heartbeat with just the right word or suggestion.

"I just need to speak to him for a moment," she tried again, "I'll be really quick."

"If you haven't booked, miss, it's a no," the receptionist rolled her eyes, whilst flicking through a colourful copy of witch weekly, "You need to leave now."

"Please, it really is urgent," Hermione insisted, pleading with her eyes.

"Miss, if you do not step away from my desk and leave then I will be forced to call the auror security team assigned to protect Minister Shacklebolt."

Hermione sighed as she realised she would have to pull out the big guns, even though she hated it.

"Sorry-" she read the woman's name plaque from the desk, "Desire, is it?"

"It's pronounced des-_eer_-ay," the girl complained flatly, and Hermione had to hold back her laughter at the name.

"Sorry Des_i_re, but I just realised that I haven't actually introduced myself," Hermione forced out in her sweetest voice, the one she used naturally around Teddy, "My name's Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you."

The girls annoyed, impatient expression vanished quickly as she looked up from the latest article on beauty potions, shocked, "No way!"

"Yes, way."

"Oh my god! No, you can't be! I heard you'd left the country!" the girl shrieked, deserting her magazine, looking to Hermione excitedly.

"Yes, well I've come back to speak to Minister Shacklebolt," she said, trying hard to ignore the confused and stunned looks on the faces of the other people in the room, "So, if you could just ask him when he's available, I'd really app-"

"I'll go now! He's only in a meeting with the head of the games and sports department, and I'm sure they can reschedule," she dismissed with a wave of her hand, "Wait _right_ here."

Hermione sighed, covering her red face with her hands in embarrassment, before jumping slightly in shock at the sound of a familiar voice, "Wow, Granger, you've really got a hold on that whole celebrity benefits thing, haven't you? Bet you're glad you saved the wizarding world from the great Lord Voldemort now, huh, considering all the friends you have in such high places?"

"Jesus," she sighed in frustration, turning to face him, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see the minister," he drawled, "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Miss Granger? The minister will see you now," the receptionist told her, "His office is just through that door."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled.

"Hello, sir, can I help you in any way?"

"Yes I'm here to see Kingsley," he told her, winking at Hermione as she glared at him, before leaving through the door, "I was wondering if I could set up an appointment."

* * *

"She's clearly a nut job," Leah declared, ignoring the frustrated looks from her pack mates, "What? She waltzes in here with her big eyes and pale skin, talking about wands and wizards, and you all believe her like dumb idiots. She's got you believing fairy stories, for god's sake!"

"Sis, we change into big, hulking dogs every time we get angry," Seth countered his sister, "I don't think we can judge her for believing the unbelievable."

"It makes no sense! We have evidence, she's just got her own imagination," Leah pointed out, "Can't argue with that. And she's dangerous."

"She's not dangerous," Paul scoffed, "What is she, four foot? We could take her easily.

"Not that we'd want to," Seth assured at Sam's growl.

"She and her little boy disappeared into thin air with a wave of that twig she had," Jared added, "That's pretty much all the evidence I need."

"Yeah, well I need more. For all we know, she's a vampire and she's turned that innocent little boy too!" she cried.

"No, we all smelt her," Paul said, "And she smelt nothing like leech, she smelt nice, like I should trust her."

"Where did she go, anyway?" Embry asked, looking sheepish as all the others turned to him, "Well she didn't turn invisible, otherwise Sam wouldn't look so pale."

"Maybe she left the country," Jacob suggested, glancing over to his alpha, who was pale and clutching at his chest with pain written on his face, "Wherever she is, we need her."

Sam had been feeling ill ever since Hermione left the reservation, but about an hour into patrol, a huge pain erupted in his heart, and it had been pulsing dangerously fast ever since. It was as if she's disappeared, and his wolf senses were screaming at him to find her, quickly, and bring her back home: to America, to La Push and then straight into his arms.

"Can't we just tell her about us?" Quil asked, "She's an imprintee, isn't she? Sam can tell her and then she can tell us about her."

"No, we can't tell her about anything," Jacob admitted, "Dad told me the elders are having a meeting about her tonight to discuss the situation, but I think Sam's gonna lose it if we don't see her soon."

"You mean to discuss if she's a risk," Leah said smartly, crossing her arms, "I told you she's mental. She's going to ruin that kid."

"She's not mental and she's not a risk," Sam gritted out, "And how she raises her son is none of your damn business."

"As if that girl could look after a child," Leah said, "She looked just out of middle school."

"She's nineteen, for your information," Sam growled, "She's more mature than you with all this petty bitching you're doing, and to look after a little boy at that age is amazingly brave."

"Well I say it's stupid, and she's dangerous."

"She is not dangerous _or_ stupid!" Sam roared, standing up from his armchair, "She is kinder, prettier and smarter than you'll ever be!"

"If she's so damn precious, why's she not allowed near us?" Leah hissed, hiding her hurt, "She's a risk and you know it!"

"She is my imprint and by definition, your female alpha. You will treat her with respect and kindness, something you seem to refuse to do with any of us."

"None of you deserve my respect, and neither does she! I'll do whatever I damn want!"

"Why are you being so difficult? Why can't you ever be nice!"

"I'm leaving!" Leah cried, storming out of the door and running into the woods before phasing in frustration.

"Dude, I think that one might be on you," Jacob sighed, clapping his alpha on the shoulder, "You shouldn't have compared them; not when you used to date her."

"I just, we went out for a month and didn't work out, but from then on, it's she's got it in for all future girlfriends I ever have!"

"Considering you dated her cousin - which was a douche move, by the way - you deserved it that first time," Jared told him, "And now you've imprinted, which is for life. Which means she's never got a chance with you, even if she doesn't want it; she's just dealing with that."

"Yep, all girls are the same," Quil agreed, "They just have in their own special way of getting through it."

"And unfortunately, hers seems to be lashing out," Paul chuckled.

* * *

"Hermione, always a pleasure," Kingsley sighed, placing his quill down on the large oak desk, "Would you like some tea, perhaps?"

"Why not?" she said, sliding into the leather chair in front of his desk.

"Is english breakfast okay? Or would you like assam?"

"Oh, assam, if you have it."

"Sounds perfect," he nodded, waving his wand at a point behind her, "You've made quite the impression on my receptionist."

"You've got quite the receptionist," she replied, "I'm sorry to interrupt a meeting, but it was rather important."

"Ah, what can I do for you then, Hermione?" he asked, taking the floating tea tray and turning the cups upright, "I was told it was urgent."

"Why did you apperate in front of those people? They're muggles!"

"You do know that apperating internationally unless there's an emergency is quite illegal in the UK, don't you Hermione?"

"Well I'm sorry, but when the minister for magic knowingly breaks the statute of secrecy, I tend to consider that an emergency!" she scolded him, "You are aware, minster or not, that you can lose your job and your _magic_ for this, Kingsley! You could be sent to Azkaban!"

"I am fully aware of the statute of secrecy, Hermione, and I assure you I have no intentions of breaking it," he told her calmly, pouring tea into the fine china.

"But you already have!" she exclaimed.

"I have not," he repeated, as if talking to a small child, "How do you take your tea?"

"Milk, one sugar, thanks," she answered distractedly, "How could you not have? The only way is if they're not muggles, but they _are_ muggles, aren't they?"

"No, they are not. It came to the ministry's attention that there is a large pack of shape-shifters in the Northwest part of the country calling themselves werewolves. They're a small group of lads in a local tribe that can shift into giant wolves, but the elder people you met there are also aware of their situation."

"How did you find out?" she asked, trying to absorb the information.

"There have been several Muggle disappearances in the area in the past year, and because the deaths were unnatural and non-muggle, we sent some aurors over to Italy to speak to the Volturi - you know them, right? - that we knew of already, but when we spoke to them we were referred to investigate a large coven of vampires in the town over who informed us of the pack."

"So they know about us?" she demanded, thinking of how Billy had reacted to magic, and how unfairly the ministry must've treated them if they were so afraid.

"Actually, I am pretty sure they don't. When we found out about them, and because of the explanation from negative description of them from certain members of the Olympic coven, the reaction of the auror department was to place them on the extremely-dangerous creatures list, which gives any wizard free reign to use any means necessary to protect themselves if the encounter becomes hostile," he explained, continuing at the look of irritation on her face, "_But_ through further investigation and observation and a little bit of begging from the department of magical creatures, I've managed to reduce the classification to capable of harm in their wolf form, yet not dangerous per-say. Kind of like an animagus, I guess."

"Well then why are they even classed as magical creatures?" she asked, "Animagi aren't magical creatures."

"No, but their ability to change form isn't in their blood like the pack's," he said, "And they're otherwise non-magical."

"So, they're not muggles," she stated nervously, "And they can know, you know, about my magic."

"Yes, they can know," he nodded, "But you should know, there is another ability they have: if they meet their soulmate, they do this thing called imprinting, where they instantly fall in love."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful, to live your life with the perfect person for you," she smiled, thinking of the boys she'd met.

"Yes, but it doesn't effect the person they imprint on," he sighed, "So if they don't love them back, they're doomed to spend the rest of their lives unhappy."

"Oh, how horrible," Hermione gasped, thinking about Sam.

She'd thought about him a lot since she'd met him. Once Hermione had apperated to England, she'd felt sharp pain in her heart and the face of the eldest boy in the pack passed through her mind, but she ignored it and made her way to the office. At night, her dreams were centred around him, but she hadn't known why. Could he have imprinted?

"Hermione, I'm going to have to go; I've got a meeting with the auror department in a few minutes, but I'm sorry about this, I know it must of been confusing for you," he apologised, "I'll come over this weekend with the adoption papers for Teddy."

"That's okay Kings, I need to get back to Teddy anyway, but thanks for telling me," she sighed, "Sorry for accusing you."

"You didn't know, Hermione," he shrugged, "I'll get you an international portkey."

"Thanks, but I think I'll just apperate if you don't mind. I'm missing my little boy and it'll take a bit to get it sorted even if _you_ ask," she said, finishing off her tea, "Go home and sort out this mess."

"Are they okay with you being a witch, then?" he asked.

"I don't know if they'll understand it, but I'll have to speak to them. That's if their chief will let me, though. At the moment they probably think I'm mental and pretending to be a witch."

"You could always show them some tricks," he joked, laughing as she sighed and stood up, "Make a rabbit disappear."

"That'll probably make it worse," she rolled her eyes, "See you."

* * *

Hope you liked it. (:


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